Not Not Right
by ladylaytonx
Summary: Eighteen years have passed since everyone left and with Damon's sudden return and newfound interest in the witch, Bonnie finds it hard to fight him. And then there's that other thing.


**Eighteen years have passed since everyone left and with Damon's sudden return and newfound interest in the witch, Bonnie finds it hard to fight him. And then there's that other thing.**

* * *

She peers through her kitchen window, seeing clouds darkening on yet another summer's day; rain isn't far behind if yesterday is anything to go by. She's drinking straight from the jug of lemonade, savouring every icy swallow as it kisses her tongue. Her body jerks from a sudden shiver, as coolness licks at her skin and she reassures herself it's just the drink and nothing more. Her conscious is screaming at her, of something awful gaining momentum. She ignores it. Mystic falls hasn't tasted like real fear for a long time now. Eighteen years, precisely. She looks through the window again, takes extra care in her scrutiny, and nothing.

Later that night, she's freezing. Her air-conditioning had died a week ago, and the repair guy still hadn't shown his face even though she rang countless times. She could have done without the complaining, too, now that she thinks about it, and magic could have fixed the damn thing in a heartbeat. But Bonnie Bennett hasn't used her magic for a long time now, and she's anxious simply thinking about the kind of power that used to course through her veins, its presence all too intoxicating. With the inside of her house even hotter than the outside air, and her now _trembling_ from an unknown chill, she lets the fear invade her mind more and more. Cold sweat pours out from her, dripping down her back and down her legs in one ugly affair. Her breasts are soaked, as sweat pours out from them as well. Her hair is fucked, as more moisture glistens at her hairline and neck. This much sweat from a woman should be criminal, she thinks.

The fear crawls along her spine, and her body reacts; it's like she's almost excited. Delirious. Danger was always like that, if she thinks back, a mixture of frights and thrills.

Bonnie swallows and licks her lips nervously, as she flops down onto her bed, limbs spread like a snow angel's. She feels like a child almost; all helpless, as the big bad thing approaches. After a while her eyes droop closed without her knowing, her breaths a little short. Her clothes are sticky, and she looks disgusting, but no matter. _Something isn't right. Something isn't right. Something isn't right. Oh, God. _

"Oh, God—" Bonnie's heart stills with realization.

"Hey, Bon Bon."

_**NO.**_

Eyes dart open suddenly, her body already erect as she takes a guarded step forward. Bonnie frowns at the window where the curtains hang motionlessly. That's what's been going on, she realises.

A vampire strolls through this town and she holds her breath, just in case. _This_ vampire passes through and she's gone, all sweaty and feverish, and maybe it's just the overwhelming memory of him, of a truly familiar face . . . _oh_ _fuck it_; there has never been anyone like him. She, who hated him almost entirely, can admit that much. When she thinks vampire, and rarely does she think of them anymore, his is the face she sees. Klaus had several lifetimes on him, but Damon . . . Damon was the vampire Bonnie's life used to revolve around. All their lives used to revolve around him. After Elena, that is. They took and demanded more and more, until Mystic Falls wasn't enough anymore.

Damon, sneering, finally reveals himself after another moment's silence, and Bonnie's breath catches. She takes a step back, as he takes several forward, entering her room. His voice is as mocking as ever, and the smirk it seems forever rigid on his face. She really shouldn't have expected anything else if she thinks. There are no major differences, she observes bitterly, except the eyes if you look closely. Those knowing blues are deeper with experience, if that was even possible. They meet hers suddenly and widen slightly, as they drink her presence in for the first time in eighteen years.

For Bonnie, it's a little too much; the nostalgia, the fear, and now the thought of all the awful things he's capable of make her sad and sick to the bone. Her heart beats, like punches against her chest and she feels the familiar hatred rise from within her. At the same time, he's such a distant memory, that she has to take a moment to adjust her eyes to his memorable face, no matter how infuriating. The uncertainty of his presence in Mystic Falls, and the thought of him in her house, sends another chill down her spine.

All the while, Damon continues to stare at her. _No_, vampires do not stare like this, not for dinner, nor a pretty face; they've seen and tasted everything worth any real attention after all. Yet, here he is, taken aback, entirely unaware, or uncaring of what he's doing to her. Unexpectedly, Bonnie looks down and examines herself, and finds she's a little self-conscious even after eighteen years.

Before she even tries the little trick he used to love so much, she knows it's futile, as her magic is weak from being idle for so long, and she unsure of it as more and more time passed. Once, she could have killed this vampire, and now she can't even utter a word or two to fix her damn air-conditioning. This was also the same house from eighteen years ago, and he was very much invited. The cards are really stacked against her, she thinks, like the perfect victim. But she's not worried for herself, not really. Fresh tears gleam in her eyes, as panic grabs at her throat, making it difficult to breathe.

Bonnie's lips part, but her angry words die on her lips as she takes notice of her sudden dizziness, and just as suddenly collapses to her floor in a mess of limbs.

Damon looks down at the sleeping witch, unmoving himself. The front door downstairs creaks open after its unlocking, and Damon hears a youthful voice echo up the stairs, into his ears—

"Mom, I'm home!"

* * *

**Continue? **

**I don't wholly know where I'm going with this btw, but it's going to be Bamon all the way baby. **


End file.
